A Matter of Equality
by Marleen23
Summary: While the heroes continue their work in Heidelberg, Hochstetter searches for answers and the arrival of LeBeau’s sister threatens to tear the team apart. Sequel to "Heroes in Heidelberg"
1. Chapter 1: December Tragedy

**Warning:** This chapter deals with some of the hardships faced by the German citizens following the war, including the death of a young girl.

* * *

It was a cold December afternoon. Newkirk had gone out to pick up a few items that the team needed and had invited Felix to join him. Now, the two of them were on their way home, just over a block from the bookstore.

During the night and early morning hours, a storm had deposited several inches of snow on the city, leaving travel slow and difficult. Though Newkirk was driving very carefully because of the road conditions, he was totally unprepared for what happened next. A boy, about Felix's age, suddenly darted out in front of the car. Newkirk swerved to miss the child, started to slide, then finally regained control and pulled to a stop near the curb.

An irate Newkirk got out of the car. "Are you crazy?" he yelled. "You could have been killed!"

Before the boy had a chance to respond, Felix had rushed from his side of the vehicle and cried the boy's name in recognition. "Johann!"

The clearly distraught boy glanced at Felix. "It's Minna!" he exclaimed. "She won't wake up. I think…I think she's dead."

Newkirk's irritation turned to concern and he stepped towards the boy. "Where?" When Felix started to follow, Newkirk told him, "You wait in the car."

At that, Felix shook his head. "Minna's a friend," he declared. "I'm going."

"All right," Newkirk relented. "But stay close."

Johann led them about halfway down the alley. He stopped and pointed at a figure lying near a stack of boxes. "There," he said.

Newkirk approached and examined the girl. Almost immediately, he realized that Johann's fears were justified.

In spite of the snow, Felix knelt on the ground beside the girl.

"Felix, don't," ordered Newkirk.

Felix ignored Newkirk and reached out and gently shook the girl, tears beginning to form in his eyes. "Please, Minna, open your eyes," he pleaded, speaking now in German. "You can't be dead. Please, wake up."

Newkirk reached down and placed a hand on Felix's shoulder in empathy. He was finding it hard to keep the tears from his own eyes. "I wish she could," he solemnly stated. "Come on. There's nothing we can do here. I'll need to contact the authorities."

"I'm not leaving her alone," insisted Felix, the tears streaming down his face.

Newkirk prepared to argue, then discovered he wouldn't have to. Someone had noticed them and a crowd began to gather. Among them were three American soldiers from the garrison. At their approach, Johann fled in the opposite direction.

The highest ranking one, a lieutenant, stepped up beside Newkirk. "She dead?" he asked.

Newkirk nodded. "Likely the cold, sir. Her clothing doesn't look to be that protective against the weather."

"Street kid?" the lieutenant guessed.

"Appears so. Both she and the lad who found her. He ran off when you arrived."

"Okay, we'll take over here," the lieutenant declared.

"Right," Then, Newkirk turned his attention to Felix, and said, "You heard him, Felix. They'll take care of her. It's time for us to leave."

Felix glanced up, gazing at first Newkirk and then the soldiers with his tear-filled eyes. "This is your fault, Allied butchers," he hissed. "Why don't you go home and leave us alone?"

As he was speaking, Felix had risen to his feet. At his final word, he ran off in the direction of the bookstore.

"Felix!" cried a startled Newkirk, preparing to follow.

"Cocky little Nazi, ain't he?" muttered one of the soldiers who had accompanied the lieutenant.

Newkirk turned back. "Felix is no Nazi," he snapped. "He's just a little German lad grieving for his friend."

After studying Newkirk a moment, the lieutenant drew him aside. "I thought you looked familiar," he told Newkirk. "You're one of Hogan's men, aren't you? And that boy is the street kid you took in."

"Right," agreed Newkirk. "And he's recently been adopted by a German couple who have clearance as part of our team."

"You're referring to the Vogels," the lieutenant guessed, making reference to Klink and Gertrude's protective cover names.

"That's right. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be off. Felix is pretty upset. I'd like to catch up, if I can."

"Go ahead," the lieutenant consented.

Newkirk headed back to the car and the three soldiers prepared to remove the girl's body from the alley.

As he drove down the road and approached the bookstore, Newkirk noticed that Felix had just arrived and was headed inside. Newkirk pulled to a stop along the curb and prepared to follow.

- - -

Inside the bookstore, Carter was doing some work behind the counter. He glanced up as Felix entered. Right away, he sensed something was wrong. Coming out from behind the counter and heading towards Felix, Carter asked, "Felix, what's wrong?"

"Stay away from me," Felix snarled, rushing towards the stairs. "I don't need your help."

Concerned by Felix's behavior, a puzzled Carter thought he'd follow the boy upstairs in an effort to discover the cause. Newkirk's arrival, however, changed his mind.

Nearly out of breath, Newkirk glanced towards the stairway. "Felix go upstairs?" he wondered.

"Yeah. He seemed awfully upset," Carter answered. "You have any idea what's wrong with him?"

Newkirk nodded. "A dreadful experience." Then, he proceeded to explain how they'd found the young German girl dead from the cold weather and how the grieving Felix was blaming the occupying forces for the death of his friend.

"No wonder the kid's upset," stated Carter when Newkirk had finished explaining. "And that poor girl. How terrible to die like that--and so young."

- - -

Meanwhile, Felix had entered the Klink apartment upstairs, closing the door loudly behind him. Gertrude stepped in from the kitchen. "Felix, don't slam--" she began. Then, noticing his face, she hurried over and put her arms around the boy. "What's wrong, Liebchen?" As she spoke, she steered him towards the sofa and they both sat down.

"It's Minna," sobbed Felix, burying his face in her chest. "She's…she's dead."

"Your friend?" guessed Gertrude, sounding very sympathetic, as she recalled several times that Felix had mentioned an orphaned girl by that name.

"Ja," answered Felix. "Her real name was Wilhelmina, but we all called her Minna. Now, she's dead and it's their fault.

"Whose?" Gertrude wondered.

"The Allied invaders," spat Felix. "I hate them and wish they would all go home."

"That include your Uncle Andrew and Uncle Peter?" Gertrude's concern was increasing as she questioned him about Carter and Newkirk.

"Yes…no…I don't know," Felix sobbed even harder, as his uncertainty grew.

"Why don't you tell me what happened?" suggested Gertrude.

"Johann stopped Uncle Peter and me. He took us to the alley in the next block. She was just lying there so…so still. Her clothes didn't look warm enough and she was awfully thin."

Gertrude hugged Felix more tightly. If Carter and Newkirk hadn't taken the boy in and then she and Wilhelm adopted him, Felix might have suffered the same fate. "Johann your friend, too?"

"Ja, he was the one who found her first. Why did she have to die?"

Gertrude sadly shook her head. "I wish had the answer, but I don't," she admitted. "I'm so sorry, Felix…so very sorry." Still holding the sobbing boy close, Gertrude moved slightly back and forth in a rocking motion, hoping to silently provide what comfort she could. As she did so, the tears started to form in her own eyes. She knew from experience how it was to discover a friend dead under horrible circumstances. But her tears were not just for Anna, Felix and the girl who had died too young. She wept also for the rest of her people, fearing there would be more Minnas as they faced the hardships which lay ahead.

For several minutes, the two of them sat there, engulfed in their grief. Finally, Gertrude brushed her tears aside. "Why don't you lie down and rest for a while," she urged Felix. She felt Felix nod compliance as he started to pull away.

"All right," Felix conceded, rising slowly to his feet and heading for his room.

Gertrude watched him go. Then, her thoughts returned to the coming winter months and what she feared they meant for her people. She was still lost in thought, when Hogan and Klink entered some time later.

"Newkirk explained what happened," Klink stated, breaking into her thoughts. "How's Felix?"

"Still upset," Gertrude replied. "I sent him to his room to rest."

Realizing that Gertrude was also quite troubled by the incident, Klink placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "How about you?" Klink inquired, his concern obvious.

Gertrude managed a weak smile. "I'll be fine," she assured him.

Klink still wasn't convinced. "You sure?"

"Ja, Wilhelm…in time," she insisted.

"I think I'll look in on Felix," said Klink, as he left and headed towards Felix's room.

Once Klink had gone, Hogan stepped up beside Gertrude and duplicated Klink's earlier gesture by reaching out and placing a hand on her shoulder. "You regretting any of the assistance you gave us?"

Gertrude glanced up to make eye contact. "Nein," she answered, almost without hesitation. "Hitler's madness had to be stopped. Prolonging the inevitable would have only meant more deaths, perhaps brought even more animosity towards my people." She paused, frowned and sadly shook her head. "Anyway, I doubt it would have prevented Minna's death."

Hogan gently squeezed her shoulder as an act of reassurance. "It will get better someday," he declared. "You'll see."

"I hope so," she affirmed, a hint of desperation in both her voice and her eyes.


	2. Chapter 2: Celebrating Christmas

Several days later, Hogan stepped over to answer the knock at his door. On the way, he couldn't help but notice the tempting aroma drifting in from the kitchen. LeBeau and Marie were definitely going all out for their meal. Upon opening the door, Hogan discovered it was Newkirk and Carter.

"Merry Christmas, Gov'nor," stated Newkirk, as the two of them entered.

"Yeah, Merry Christmas," echoed Carter, following Newkirk in.

Carter and Newkirk were both carrying packages filled with gifts. They went over to the corner where a decorated tree stood and placed their wrapped gifts underneath.

"When are we going to open the presents, sir?" Carter asked with excitement, glancing up at Hogan when they were through.

Hogan couldn't keep from grinning at Carter's apparent enthusiasm. "Eager to find out what you got?" he guessed.

"No, it isn't that, boy--I mean, sir. I want to see Felix open his. I got him something special, and you know how he's been so upset lately. I'm hoping it will cheer him up--let him know we're not the villains he thinks we are."

"I believe that deep inside he understands that, Carter," Hogan tried to reassure him. "He's just currently overwhelmed with grief and wants to lash out at someone."

Just as Hogan was completing his response, there was another knock at the door. This time, it was Schultz, his wife and their five children.

As he entered, Schultz sniffed the air and smiled. "Something smells delicious," he declared.

"Ja," his wife, Gretchen, agreed.

"LeBeau always does such an excellent job," Schultz exuberantly informed her. "His meals taste even better than they smell. I know."

Smiling affectionately, Gretchen reached over and patted her husband's stomach. "Of course you do, Liebchen."

While the Schultz family headed for the living room, Hogan returned to the door to admit the next guests. Lottie and her husband, Walter, came through the doorway.

Hogan closed the door and stepped closer to view the bundle Lottie held in her arms. "And this must be Heidi," he declared.

"Ja," confirmed Lottie, glancing fondly at her newborn daughter. "It is." Then, Lottie's attention turned to the living room and the guests who were waiting there. "Her grandparents have not arrived yet?" she wondered.

"Not yet," Hogan answered. "I'm expecting them any time."

"Good. I'm eager for them to meet their granddaughter."

Hogan nodded. "An eagerness I know they both share--especially your mother. She can barely contain her enthusiasm--has been practically counting the hours for days."

"Ja, Mama would," Lottie agreed.

"Why don't we join the others in the living room?" Hogan invited.

The three of them headed for the living room. As soon as they arrived, little Heidi became the center of attention as everyone gathered close to see her. About five minutes later, Hogan excused himself to make yet another trip to the door. He returned shortly with the two new grandparents and a noticeably downcast Felix.

Gertrude headed immediately for the sofa where her daughter was seated. "I must see my first grandchild," she insisted. "May I hold her?"

"Of course, Mama," Lottie responded, preparing to hand her mother the infant.

While Gertrude reached for the baby, she quietly said, "Come to Oma Gertrude." The proud grandmother paused a moment to gaze lovingly at the bundle in her arms. Then, she moved closer to her husband so he could have a better view. "Isn't she just beautiful, Wilhelm?"

Klink gave one of his indecisive nods. "Ja, I guess she is."

"Guess!" Gertrude quietly hissed, not wanting to wake the baby.

"She's beautiful, Liebchen--definitely beautiful," Klink hurriedly conceded.

"Of course she is," proclaimed Gertrude. Then, she glanced at Felix, who had withdrawn to a chair near the far corner of the room. "Want to see your new niece?" she invited.

"Maybe later," he stated.

Gertrude sighed. She'd hoped today might soften Felix's despair a little, but so far it hadn't. "All right, Felix. Whenever you're ready." With that, Gertrude went over and carefully sat down on the sofa, next to Lottie and her husband.

Klink, meanwhile, drew Hogan aside to have a quick chat about Felix and a few other things. The other guests also engaged in conversation for several minutes. Finally, Klink and Hogan returned to rejoin the group.

"I think it's time Heidi and her Opa Wilhelm got better acquainted," Gertrude announced.

"You mean…HOLD her?" Klink stammered.

Gertrude nodded. "Ja."

"But…but…she's so tiny," Klink protested.

"She won't break, mate," quipped Newkirk.

"Support her head and everything will be okay," advised Schultz, who had held five of his own.

Klink desperately sought help elsewhere. "Hogaan!"

"You'll do fine. Trust me," Hogan tried to reassure him.

"Wait a minute, Gov'nor. I have an idea," Newkirk told Hogan. Then, he stepped over to where Klink was standing. "Come with me."

"Where?" asked Klink.

"Just over here," urged Newkirk, ushering Klink towards a nearby armchair. Once he had Klink seated, Newkirk glanced at Gertrude. "Now, bring her over."

When Gertrude reached them, Newkirk helped Klink position his arms and accept the infant. As the transfer was being made, Newkirk added, "Just remember to support her head like Schultz said and it will be fine."

"You're doing great," Hogan told Klink, who now held his granddaughter cradled in his arms.

"Ja, I am," said Klink, with surprise. Then, he glanced downward and smiled. "She is rather pretty, isn't she?"

"Sounds like grandpa is more than a little proud," quipped Hogan.

"And why shouldn't I be, Colonel Hogan?" responded Klink, feigning offense.

"Why not," Hogan agreed, noticing that Klink was now almost completely relaxed.

After Klink had held their granddaughter for several minutes, Gertrude asked, "Shall I take her now, Wilhelm?"

"Not yet," Klink replied, not willing to relinquish the infant so soon.

He held Heidi a while longer, while the others continued socializing. Suddenly, Klink mumbled, "Uh-oh."

"What?" Hogan wondered.

"She…she's wet," Klink proclaimed.

"Obviously, not the only one," chuckled Newkirk, as the spot on Klink's shirt began to spread.

Carter's nose wrinkled at a new odor which masked the smells coming from the kitchen. "I don't think that's the only problem."

By this time, Heidi had started to cry. Newkirk chuckled even more loudly. "Time to change someone's nappy, I'd say," he observed, trying to be heard above the noise.

A frantic Klink gazed towards the sofa. "LOTTIE!" he pleaded.

When Lottie started to rise, Gertrude shook her head. "Nein. We will change Heidi."

"We?" repeated Klink, his reluctance obvious.

"We," confirmed a resolute Gertrude. "I'll teach you. Lottie and Walter may need us to babysit from time to time."

Klink cast a pleading look in Hogan's direction. "Hogan?"

Hogan grinned and shook his head. "Sorry, Klink. This time you're on your own. It may be easier if you change her on my bed, however. Just make sure to throw down a spare sheet from the closet."

"Thanks," mumbled Klink, half-heartedly.

"And while you're there, you may want to save yourself a trip to your apartment. Feel free to borrow one of my shirts."

"Thanks," acknowledged Klink, and this time he meant it.

Heidi's cries were becoming more intense. "Come, Wilhelm," Gertrude ordered. "Heidi needs our attention."

Reluctantly, Klink rose, his granddaughter still in his arms. Then, he followed Gertrude from the room.

While they were gone, LeBeau came in from the kitchen. "Dinner is ready," he informed the crowd in the living room.

"I am so glad," declared Schultz. "I was getting so hungry."

"I was getting a bit hungry meself," admitted Newkirk.

The guests headed for the dining room, where an additional table had been set up to provide more seating room. The last of them were just being seated when Klink and Gertrude returned.

"Time to eat," Schultz told them.

Klink grimaced, thinking of the horrible mess they had just cleaned up. "I've lost my appetite," he grumbled.

"You think something's wrong with our cooking?" an affronted LeBeau asked, as Marie came in to join him.

"Of course not. It's just--"

Before Klink had a chance to finish, Newkirk gave a one word explanation. "Nappy."

At almost the same moment, Carter said, "Diaper."

"It couldn't have been that bad," LeBeau concluded.

"You have no idea," Klink responded. "Just wait till a few months when you get the opportunity."

"I'm a cook, not a nanny," protested LeBeau

"And you'll also be our baby's father," Marie insisted.

LeBeau glanced at Marie in dismay. "You mean--"

Marie nodded.

With a mischievous grin, Hogan remarked, "But if you have any problems, you won't have to go far for advice. Klink should be an old pro by then."

Klink shook his fist in frustration. "Hogaan!"

Several of those seated around the tables tried to conceal their own grins as LeBeau and Marie prepared to serve the meal.

- - -

Once they had finished eating, the group returned to the living room and gathered near the tree to open the packages underneath. Schultz's children eagerly tore open theirs. The adults took a bit longer, making sort of a game of it by shaking their packages and considering its size and weight to try to guess what was inside. Felix, however, merely lay his unopened beside his chair and remained quite depressed.

Finally, Carter picked up a large package and brought it over to Felix. "Open this," he urged. "I'm sure you'll like it."

Felix refused to take the gift. "I don't want it," he declared vehemently. "I don't want any of them. All I want is Minna back." With that, Felix leaped to his feet and dashed for the door before anyone could stop him.

"Felix, wait!" called Carter, starting after the boy.

Newkirk and Gertrude stood to follow as well, but Hogan stopped them. "Let Carter handle it," he suggested, believing that it would be best if Felix was not overwhelmed by too many concerned adults.

By the time Carter caught up with him, Felix had run around the corner of the building and entered the alley. "I just want Minna," repeated Felix, as Carter firmly held him in place. The grief and frustration he was feeling sent tears trickling down the boy's cheeks.

"I know," Carter softly said in a sympathetic tone. "Any one of us would grant your wish if we could. We all feel bad about what happened to Minna. You realize that, don't you?" Felix nodded his head, and Carter continued, "And you don't really want us to leave Germany, do you?"

This time, Felix shook his head. "No," he meekly replied, brushing away some of his tears.

"I remember when you first told us about Minna and your other orphaned friends. You said even when the rest of you were feeling down, Minna would still seem happy and try to cheer you up."

"She would," Felix agreed.

Carter knelt on the ground and pulled Felix closer. "I know you're hurting right now, but do you think Minna would want you to be this upset?"

"No. She would say no matter how bad things look now they're bound to get better," Felix answered.

"She'd be right, you know," Carter told him. "In time, it will get easier. Until then, you've got quite a few other friends you can turn to. Okay?"

"Okay," Felix conceded.

"Then, what say we head back and celebrate Christmas with them? I know they've all been worried about you. And if you want to wait to open your presents, I'm sure everyone will understand."

"No, Minna would have wanted me to enjoy Christmas," Felix decided. "I'll open them."

Carter released Felix and stood up. "All right, then. Let's go." Wrapping one arm around Felix's shoulders as they started back towards Hogan's apartment, Carter added, "And Felix, Merry Christmas."

Felix returned the gesture by wrapping his arm around Carter's waist. Then, managing a very weak smile, the boy glanced up at Carter and said, "Merry Christmas, Uncle Andrew."


	3. Chapter 3: Letters in the Mail

**Author's Note: **After a long hiatus, I have finally returned to my writing. I hope to post updates to this, my other HH story and my Stargate story soon.

* * *

As he sat behind the counter of the bookstore, Hogan glanced at the calendar on the wall. It was now the middle of March. He took a few moments to reflect over the events of the past year. With all that had happened, it was hard to believe that it had only been a year since they were trying to meet with the operative known as Baby Bear, which led to their taking over Stalag 13 shortly before the Allies crossed the Rhine. He couldn't help but grin a little as he recalled their late night visit to Klink's bedroom and the Kommandant's introduction to the tunnels.

Hogan's thoughts were interrupted by the tinkling of a bell as the entrance door opened and Newkirk came over to join him. "Something up, Gov'nor?" asked Newkirk, upon noticing the still slightly amused expression on his superior's face.

"Just remembering last year when we took Klink into the tunnels," Hogan confessed.

Now it was Newkirk's turn to grin. "Right. I doubt Old Klink's forgotten it either. Me? I'll never forgot the look on his face when suddenly our roles had been reversed and he was the prisoner. Anyway, I picked up the mail while I was out. You have a few."

Hogan stood, took the envelopes Newkirk offered and glanced through them. "Hmm. This one's from Oscar Schnitzer in Hammelburg," Hogan stated. "Wonder how he and his family are doing now."

Newkirk watched with interest as Hogan opened the envelope and silently read the letter it contained. His interest turned to concern, however, over the grim expression that appeared on Hogan's face. "Oscar's family? The girls…?" he guessed, apprehensively.

"Are doing fine with therapy," Hogan assured him. "They've made remarkable progress."

"Then, what is it, Gov'nor…if you don't mind me asking?" Hogan handed Newkirk the letter and pointed at one passage. After quickly reading the section, Newkirk understood Hogan's concern. "You going to tell him?"

Hogan nodded affirmation. "He needs to know. I'm just not sure how he's going to react."

"It's not our fault, you know," Newkirk declared. "He had no qualms serving Hitler or the Reich."

"I know," Hogan sighed. "Still…it's bound to be a shock. What we need is a little reinforcement."

"Gertrude?"

"Gertrude," Hogan confirmed, as he turned and headed for the stairs to the Klink's upstairs apartment.

* * *

"We need to talk," Hogan grimly told the woman when she answered the door.

"It sounds serious," Gertrude concluded. "Come on in and sit down."

"It is," Hogan agreed, as he entered and accepted the offered chair. Gertrude sat down on the couch, nearby.

"Wilhelm is at work right now," she informed him.

"I know. But I just received a letter from Hammelburg that I think you should see." Hogan stood, walked over to her side and handed her the letter. Pointing out the appropriate passage, he continued, "This part right here."

Gertrude solemnly read its contents, then asked, "Have you told him?"

"Not yet," Hogan replied. "I thought maybe it would help if you were there."

"Ja, perhaps it would." Gertrude considered it a moment, then added, "But can we do it this evening…after Wilhelm is home…a little extra support if we need it?"

"All right," Hogan conceded. "If you'll feel more comfortable."

Gertrude nodded. "Ja. That would be best…You know, Berta and I never got along well, but she was Albert's wife. This will surely be a shock for him."

* * *

Burkhalter was sitting at the table reading the newspaper when Hogan, Gertrude and Klink entered his cell, one of the secret rooms located beneath the bookstore. He put the paper down, stood and walked over to welcome his sister. "Gertrude. It's been a while," he stated.

"Ja, it has," she agreed. "But you are a prisoner. I can't just drop in whenever I feel like it."

"Of course not. Please sit down," Burkhalter offered, indicating one of the two chairs beside the table.

"Thank you." Gertrude acknowledged, as she took the offered seat.

"Perhaps you should join her," Hogan suggested.

Burkhalter complied. "Now, how have things been with you and…" He paused a moment to give Klink a slightly repulsive glance. "Wilhelm?"

"That is not why we are here, Albert," Gertrude protested. "Hogan received a letter from Hammelburg-from Oscar Schnitzer."

"The vet who provided the dogs to Stalag 13? Why should he have anything to do with Hogan?" Burkhalter wanted to know.

"He is a friend," Hogan declared.

"A traitor!" spat Burkhalter. "I have no interest in anything he might say."

Gertrude reached out and grasped her brother's hand. "Albert, listen…please." Then, she nodded at Hogan for him to continue.

Hogan unfolded the letter and began to read. " 'You may be interested to know that earlier this week the late General Burkhalter's wife, Berta, was found in her home, seriously ill with pneumonia. The neighbor who found her said there was little food and no fuel in the house. Berta was taken to the hospital, where she died shortly afterwards. A few of her friends and neighbors gathered for a small ceremony and buried her in the church cemetery the following morning.' " With a sympathetic look, Hogan added, "I'm sorry."

"I-I never got to attend her funeral," choked Burkhalter when Hogan was finished."We didn't know," Hogan quietly said, with a touch of empathy in his voice.

Then, Burkhalter's face darkened as a realization suddenly struck him. "She died never knowing I was still alive, didn't she?"

"She couldn't know. It could have compromised your new identity-and theirs," Hogan explained, glancing at Klink and Gertrude towards the end.

Burkhalter buried his face in his hands. "But to have been so sick and all alone like that." A tear trickled down Burkhalter's cheek. "Ours wasn't the perfect marriage, but I did love her."

Gertrude stood, walked over, and put her arms around her brother. "I'm sure she knew that."

Klink came over to join them. "Ja," he agreed. "And we're here if you need us."

Burkhalter raised his head and glared at first Klink, then Hogan. "What I needed was to be with Berta when this happened. I needed my wife to know I was still alive."

"We're sorry," Hogan calmly reiterated.

"Then, you'll all just leave me alone and let me mourn in peace," Burkhalter snarled.

"All right," Gertrude conceded, holding her brother more tightly a moment before removing her hand from around his shoulders. "Just let them know if you need to see us."

Gertrude left the room, with Klink at her heels. Hogan gave Burkhalter one final glance, then followed them out. As the door closed behind him, Hogan caught the faint sound of Burkhalter breaking into sobs.

"How much longer till we can escape the mess Hitler caused?" Gertrude wondered, near tears herself.

"I'm sorry, Liebchen, but it was war," Klink apologized, genuinely sorry for his part in it. Then, he wrapped his arm across her back and held her close as the two of them headed for the stairs.

"I know," responded Gertrude, gently patting his hand.

Baker watched them leave from his station in their underground headquarters. "Do you think they'll ever recover, sir?" he asked.

Realizing that Baker was speaking of the German people in general, Hogan took a few moments to contemplate the question. "Like Burkhalter's situation, it's going to take some time," he finally answered. "Just much longer, I'm afraid."

* * *

Only two days later, it was LeBeau's turn to receive a personal letter in the mail. It was less than an hour till lunchtime and Carter was the only patron present. Instead of sitting at a table, he sat on a stool at the counter, having an early lunch. Marie was busy straightening up behind the counter. LeBeau sat on a stool near Carter, looking through their mail. A letter from France caught his eye and he quickly tore it open. As he read its contents, an ever broadening smile appeared on his face. Suddenly, he cried, "I can't believe it! She is coming here!"

"Who?" asked both Marie and Carter almost simultaneously.

"My sister, Juliette. She is coming to visit. She is going to stay to help until after the baby is born."

"When?" Carter wanted to know.

LeBeau glanced back at the letter and his face fell slightly. "She is coming by train and will arrive this Friday morning."

"This Friday," Marie solemnly echoed.

"This Friday," LeBeau repeated.

"Something wrong?" Carter wondered.

LeBeau sighed. "I have an important meeting this Friday morning-restaurant business-one that I can't postpone."

"I can pick her up at the station, mon chéri," Marie offered.

"I can't let you go alone, not in your condition," LeBeau protested, gazing at Marie's bulging stomach, evidence of the fact that she was well into her seventh month of pregnancy.

"Louie, I'm pregnant, not helpless," Marie tried to reassure him.

LeBeau continued to stare at her stomach. "Still, I refuse to let you go alone."

"I can drive her," Carter suggested. "Business is usually slow on Friday mornings and if Newkirk isn't available to watch the bookstore, I can always close shop temporarily."

"You're sure it won't be an imposition?"

Carter shook his head. "Not at all. What are friends for?"

"A simple solution," agreed Marie. "Besides, it will give Carter a chance to meet Juliette."

"All right," LeBeau conceded. Then, he gave Carter a warning look. "But just meet. Remember, she is my sister."

"Whatever you say," Carter assured him, but somehow LeBeau couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong.


	4. Chapter 4: Trouble Brewing

Carter finished straightening up the books on the shelf he was working on. Then, he glanced at his watch. "Oh, no! It's later than I thought!" he exclaimed. "I've got to go pick up Marie."

As Carter dashed for the door, Newkirk headed over to join him. "Just a minute, mate," he stated.

"What?" Carter asked, his hand on the door, ready to open it.

Newkirk reached his hand in front of Carter and flipped the sign around to read 'Closed.' "I'm coming with you."

"I think I can handle this job myself," Carter protested. "Besides, who'll watch the shop."

Newkirk smiled as he pointed at the sign. "We're closed. After all, we've had scarcely a customer this morning so it shouldn't hurt to close shop for a while. If somebody drops by, they can always come back later."

Knowing Newkirk's reputation with the ladies, Carter couldn't help but be a little skeptical. "I don't know. LeBeau made it perfectly clear that he didn't want any trouble concerning his sister."

"And there won't be," Newkirk promised. "You and Marie can meet Juliette while I check out the birds at the café."

"The birds at the café," repeated Carter, still uncertain.

"Look, if we don't get going, we're going to be late," Newkirk reminded him.

"All right, but no trouble," Carter reluctantly agreed.

"Right," Newkirk promised, as first Carter and then he stepped outside.

* * *

Once they reached the station, the trio split up. Carter and Marie headed towards the platform as planned, while Newkirk headed off in the direction of the café.

Newkirk glanced about the room when he entered. There were several couples seated at the tables and a few men who were seated alone. Finally, he spotted a woman seated at a table near the center of the room. She was alone and to Newkirk's satisfaction, quite beautiful. He walked over to her table. "Mind if I join you?" he asked.

After studying Newkirk carefully for a few moments, the woman finally conceded, "Suit yourself."

"Thank you, Love," stated Newkirk, as he sat down in the chair directly across from her. "Name's Peter."

"Monique," was her response.

"That's French, isn't it? You know, some of me best mates are French. As a matter of fact, that's why…" Newkirk's voice trailed off as he decided mention of Juliette might destroy any chance of a relationship with Monique, even if Juliette was just LeBeau's sister.

"Why what?" Monique wondered, but failed to hear his response as her attention was drawn to a man who had just entered the room. She watched as the newcomer walked to a table at the back of the room, sat down, and opened the newspaper he was carrying.

"Monique…Monique." Newkirk finally caught the woman's attention. "I don't think you heard a word I said, Love. Something wrong?"

"Uh…No…I'm fine," mumbled Monique. "Just a little tired, I guess. You know, the trip."

"So, are you staying in Heidelberg or just passing through, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I'll be staying a while," Monique replied. "What about you?"

Newkirk grinned. "Me? Currently a resident…A businessman, you might say."

Monique smiled in return. "Sounds fascinating. You must know Heidelberg fairly well."

"Right. Care for a tour later?"

"That would be nice, provided it isn't any trouble."

"None at all," Newkirk assured her.

Unseen by Newkirk, the man at the back of the room kept peering at them occasionally from behind his newspaper. The man's gaze seemed to grow more icy each time. He had just hidden his face behind the newspaper once more when Carter and Marie entered the room.

Upon locating Newkirk, Carter hurried over to the table. Marie followed as quickly as she could. "Newkirk, we have a problem," he stated as he approached.

Irritated by the interruption, Newkirk grumbled, "Couldn't you handle something as simple as a picking up a passenger without messing it up?"

"I tell you, it's not my fault," Carter declared, trying to justify himself. "Her train was early. Marie and I have looked everywhere."

Before Newkirk had a chance to respond, Marie arrived and noticed his companion. Having met the woman briefly on one occasion months earlier, Marie wasn't quite certain. "Juliette?" she guessed.

"Her name's Monique," answered Newkirk.

Monique nodded. "That's right," she stated, not indicating who was. Then, she explained, "My full name is Monique Juliette LeBeau. I use my first name in public. To my family and friends, I am Juliette."

Newkirk's mouth practically dropped open. "You're LeBeau's sister?"

"Oui."

"And you've been with her all this time," commented Carter, shaking his head with concern. "LeBeau's not going to like it."

Giving Carter a slightly hostile look, Juliette said, "My brother does not control my personal life. I will see whom I please."

"Of course," agreed Carter.

"We should be heading back," suggested Marie.

"Right," Newkirk conceded, sliding his chair back from the table and rising. He hurried over to Juliette's chair to pull it back. "Allow me."

"Thank you," Juliette acknowledged. As she was standing, her eyes made contact with the man at the back of the room. "Later," she mouthed.

Failing to notice the target of Juliet's attention but catching her lips move, Newkirk asked, "What's that?"

"Later. Remember, you promised to show me Heidelberg. This isn't going to change things is it?"

"Not unless you wish it to," Newkirk assured her.

"Good, then let's go get my luggage." Juliette headed for the door with Newkirk at her side.

As he and Marie started to follow, Carter glanced at Marie and repeated his earlier concern. "LeBeau's not going to like it."

A worried Marie merely nodded in confirmation.

* * *

Hogan had stopped by the restaurant for lunch and a chance to welcome LeBeau's sister. He was sitting at the counter talking to LeBeau when Carter, Marie and Juliette entered. "We were beginning to get worried. Where were you?" asked LeBeau, pointing an accusing finger in Carter's direction.

"Her train was early," Carter replied.

"Then, how come you're late?"

Juliette answered now, "It was my fault, actually. I was a little hungry after the trip so I stopped by the café. It took them a while finding me. Of course, that gave me a chance to meet Peter."

"Peter?" LeBeau wondered, hoping his suspicions were unwarranted.

"Peter?" echoed Hogan, hoping the same.

Their fears were confirmed as the door opened and Newkirk entered with Juliette's bags. "Where would you like these?" he asked her.

"Just set them down anyplace," she responded. "I'll take them to my room later."

"Newkirk," affirmed LeBeau, a slightly sour tone to his voice.

"Something wrong, mate?" Newkirk wanted to know.

"I need some help in the kitchen," LeBeau stated, heading in that direction.

Newkirk followed. "Of course." Once they had entered the kitchen, he asked, "What do you need?"

"I need to know your intentions regarding my sister," LeBeau curtly answered.

"Look, I didn't plan on getting involved-well, not with your sister, anyway-but she told me her name was Monique. I didn't know. Believe me, LeBeau, I don't want to do anything to wreck our friendship."

"You planning on seeing her again?"

"She's your sister. I don't see how that can be avoided. Besides, we sort of made arrangements for me to show her the city."

"And I'm old enough to choose my own companions," declared a vaguely annoyed Juliette, who had followed them to the kitchen and stood in the now open doorway.

LeBeau walked over and hugged his sister. "I know. But I'm your big brother. I just don't want to see you hurt."

"I won't be," Juliette assured him.

"I'll be the perfect gentleman," Newkirk promised.

LeBeau's firm glance conveyed his warning. "You'd better be."

From their location at the counter, Hogan and Carter could hear what was going on in the kitchen. Carter quietly voiced his concern. "I think there's going to be trouble, sir."

"I hope you're wrong," Hogan told him, but he couldn't help fearing that Carter was right.

* * *

At that moment, trouble lurked in another source in a secluded cabin halfway up the one of the mountains in the Odenwald range. Major Hochstetter stepped over to look out the window. It had been a rough winter but with the coming of spring, he hoped he could soon find the answers he sought. By now, he hoped Hogan and his team were involved in other pursuits and had relaxed their vigilance where he was concerned. That would make it possible for him to target the one person he needed to question. It would mean getting Carter alone and he had just come with a plan on how to do that. He would require Kat's help, however. Just a few more days and he would contact her. Then, he'd get his answers and finally take revenge on Hogan and Klink. It was time for Major Hochstetter to come out of hiding.


	5. Chapter 5: Evening of Surprises

Over three weeks passed before Hochstetter was able to meet with Kat. He had started down the slope to where he had hidden his vehicle when he lost his footing. The fall had injured his ankle so severely that it was quite painful to walk. After crawling back to the cabin, he administered what first aid he could and had stayed off his feet as much as possible. Now that most of the pain was gone, he had finally been able to make it to his car and drive to Hammelburg. His ankle still bothered him enough, however, that he walked with a slight limp.

Hochstetter parked his car in a nearby alley and cautiously approached Kat's apartment. He knocked on the door and waited a few moments.

Upon opening the door and noticing who it was, Kat exclaimed, "Wolfie! What are you doing here?"

"I need your help," Hochstetter responded.

"Well, come in before you're spotted," invited Kat, moving aside slightly to allow him to enter. As Hochstetter complied, his limp became obvious and Kat added, "What happened to you?"

"This?" responded Hochstetter, eyeing his ankle. "I fell a few weeks ago. It's given me some problems but it's getting better. That's not why I'm here."

Kat's nursing instinct came to the fore. "We'll get to that later. First, let me have a look at that ankle." The expression on her face indicated she meant business.

"All right," Hochstetter reluctantly conceded. "But make it quick."

Kat directed Hochstetter to a chair and had him sit down. Then, she had him remove his boot and sock. After scrupulously inspecting his ankle, Kat concluded, "Without X-rays, I can't be sure but it doesn't appear broken. I think you just have a severe sprain."

"I could have told you that," Hochstetter snapped. "And the X-rays are out. I don't want to draw attention to myself."

"Of course. Then, what is it you need me to do?"

"I need to set a trap. You were at the hospital when Andrew Carter was a patient. First, we need to find some excuse to lure him to Hammelburg."

Kat considered it a moment, then gave Hochstetter a conspiratorial grin. "And I think I know the perfect way to accomplish that," she declared.

* * *

Later that morning, Carter was alone in the bookstore when the phone rang. He answered it. "Andrew Carter?" the voice on the other end panted, the words barely recognizable through the static on the line.

"Yes, speaking," he replied.

"It's Mady…must see you…Hammelburg."

Carter was becoming concerned. "Mady? What's wrong?"

Still sounding out of breath, the voice answered, "Not over the phone. Need help. Please come."

"Mady, if you're in trouble, I've got some friends who can help. Just tell me what's wrong?"

"No one else," the voice insisted. "Trust only you. Come alone…must have your word."

His concern growing, Carter decided to try once more. "You can trust my friends and they'd be happy to help."

"No, Andrew. Only you…or no one." Her voice breaking in desperation, the caller pleaded further, "Please, Andrew. Don't leave me alone."

"All right, you have my word. I'll come alone," Carter finally conceded. "Where shall we meet?"

"I'll find you. Just come…soon, please." Then, Carter could only hear the sound of the dial tone.

At the other end of the line, Kat hung up the receiver and then glanced up at Hochstetter who was standing near her chair. "He gave me his word he'd come alone," she informed him.

"Excellent," Hochstetter agreed, with a smirk. "And from what I've learned of Carter, he will keep it. Soon, Kat, the lamb will enter the wolf's den. Then, we'll have him. It was most fortunate that you overhead him speak of Mady while he was in the hospital."

Kat nodded. "Ja. Everyone else believed he had remained unconscious the entire time. Only I was there treating him during his few moments of delirium when he believed I was Mady."

"The perfect bait for our little trap." Hochstetter sat down at the table beside Kat. It was safe to talk in her small apartment. "And now, let's plan our next move, shall we?"

* * *

Once the call had ended, Carter went over to the bookstore entrance and turned the sign to read closed. Then, he headed for the secret passage to their headquarters below. There, he found Baker manning the communications with Hogan standing nearby.

"Colonel Hogan, I'd like to request a furlough, please," he declared.

"Wouldn't we all," Baker laughed, while Hogan considered the request.

"I'm not kidding," Carter insisted.

"Something happen back home?" Hogan asked.

"No. I have a friend who needs my help…a lady, that's all I can say."

"And I suppose her situation is urgent," Hogan guessed.

"It sounded like it," Carter replied.

"Anything we can do to help?"

Carter shook his head. "Sorry, sir, but she made it perfectly clear that she wanted no one else involved."

"All right, but if things change and you do need our help, you know our number," Hogan stated. "Now, how much time do you think you'll need?"

"I'm not sure. She wouldn't discuss it over the phone. Maybe a week-two if you can spare me."

Hogan considered it a moment. "Okay, we'll make it two. You have plenty of time built up. But if you aren't going home, where are you headed if you don't mind my asking?"

After a moment's hesitation, Carter answered, "Hammelburg."

"Hammelburg!" echoed both Hogan and Baker, almost simultaneously. Then, Hogan added, "After what happened a few months ago, are you sure you want to return there?"

"Hochstetter won't be there this time," Carter responded. "A lady I met while we were in camp is in some kind of trouble. I just want to help her out."

Hogan was more than a little apprehensive. "All right, but you be careful. Any sign of Hochstetter or anything you can't handle, you give us a call. Understand?"

"Right, sir," acknowledged Carter, more than happy to comply.

* * *

Newkirk entered the Hofbrau that was located closest to the bookstore. At the time, the place was quite busy so he had to take an unoccupied table near the back of the room. He ordered a drink and then glanced about the room to see if he recognized anyone or if there were any card games he could join. He had no luck with either. When his drink arrived, Newkirk took a sip and leaned back to relax a bit.

Originally, he hadn't planned to come the Hofbrau that evening. He had asked Juliette to go the theater with him but she apologized and told him she'd made other plans. Just thinking of Juliette brought a look of contentment to Newkirk's face. During the last month, the two of them had spent considerable time together. He recalled LeBeau's earlier concern regarding their relationship but his little mate had no cause for concern. Juliette was special. So much, in fact, that he was beginning to consider the possibility of settling down. If anyone had even suggested such a thing a few months before, he would have told them they were crazy. Now, it was as if the woman had bewitched him.

Newkirk continued to reflect on his feelings for Juliette and was surprised a few minutes later when he noticed the object of his affection come through the door. He was about to stand up and walk over to join her when he noticed a stranger follow her into to the room. She and the strange man walked over to a table, which was positioned directly in front of the window, and sat down.

From his position in the dimly lit area in the back, Newkirk kept a close eye on the two of them. He noticed the man keeping an eye on the street outside the window as much as he did on Juliette. The longer Newkirk watched he felt there was something familiar about the man. He just couldn't pinpoint what it was but somehow he felt the man could not be trusted.

Juliette, however, seemed to have no problem in that regard. Her eyes rarely left the man and she seemed to be enjoying herself. They were there close to an hour before they finally got up and left.

With a heavy heart, Newkirk watched them go. It seemed that Juliette had found someone else. Still, Newkirk felt he should know the man's identity. He just couldn't figure out why or why the whole situation seemed so ominous.

* * *

Arriving in Hammelburg, Carter thought the best place to search for Mady would be the café where she used to work. She wasn't there so he decided to wait a while. To pass the time, he ordered supper and a drink. He had been finished with his meal for only a few minutes when a woman walked up to his table.

"Andrew Carter, isn't it?" the woman asked.

Carter glanced at the woman a moment. "You seem familiar. Do I know you?"

"Katherina Preiss, nurse at the hospital," Kat reminded him.

"Of course," Carter responded. "You were always so nice to me-always checking on how I was feeling-always asking if I needed anything."

"You were a special case," she told him. "Besides, it was part of my job. You seem to have fully recovered."

Carter nodded. "Yeah."

"Mind if I join you?"

"I am waiting for someone," Carter informed her.

Kat was persistent. "I could keep you company till they arrived-make the time pass more quickly."

Carter considered it a moment. "Okay. But when she arrives, we'll need to be alone."

"No problem," Kat agreed, reaching for a chair. Carter quickly rose and pulled out the chair for her. When she was seated, Carter returned to his spot on the opposite side of the table. Kat ordered a drink and then the two of them spent several minutes in conversation.

The phone behind the counter rang and an employee answered it. A moment later, he shouted so all the patrons could hear, "Phone call for an Andrew Carter!"

"Excuse me," Carter told Kat, sliding his chair out and rising to go to the phone.

As soon as Carter was gone, Kat pulled out a packet that contained a small amount of powder and emptied it's contents into what remained of Carter's drink. Not long after, Carter returned.

"That's strange," he said.

"What?" Kat asked.

"When I got to the phone, the caller had hung up." Carter paused a moment, then in a worried tone added, "I hope she's all right."

"She? The one you're waiting for?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe she just wondered if you were here," Kat suggested, taking a sip of her drink.

"Maybe," Carter stated, taking a sip of his own. The two of them talked a while longer and finished off the contents of their mugs. A few minutes later, Carter began to feel a bit groggy. "Something's not right," he declared, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it.

"You've had too much to drink, Liebchen," Kat scolded.

"I only had one drink," Carter insisted, in a slurred voice.

"Plus how many more before you got here?" Kat asked, empahatically. Then, she glanced around at the patrons and employees who were looking their way. "Never could hold his liquor. I keep telling him again and again but he never listens. Could someone please help me get him to the car?"

"I will," offered one patron, who had just entered a couple minutes before.

Barely conscious, Carter tried to see who was speaking. He saw a man appearing to be in his early fifties limping towards them. The man had a scar on one cheek, with a mustache and beard concealing any others he might have. Too drugged to consider the possibility of a disguise, Carter sighed in relief. At least, it wasn't Hochstetter. That was his last conscious thought as his head fell forward onto the table and everything went dark.

"Looks like you'll need another hand," suggested the male employee who had taken the call.

"Danke," acknowledged Kat, as Hochstetter and the employee pulled Carter to his feet and dragged him after her towards the exit.

Once they had Carter in the backseat of the car, Kat again thanked the employee and the man returned to work. Kat got behind the wheel and Hochstetter got in on the passenger side. As she started the engine, Kat glanced at Hochstetter and said, "That phone call you made earlier was the perfect distraction-worked just like we planned."

"Ja. And now I will have the answers I seek," proclaimed Hochstetter, decisively.


	6. Chapter 6: A Beginning of Doubts

After leaving the Hofbrau, Newkirk headed for LeBeau's restaurant. Hogan had said earlier that he planned to drop in and stick around to visit with the LeBeaus after closing.

By the time Newkirk arrived, the restaurant was already closed. He knocked at the door and a few moments later LeBeau opened it to let him in.

"Newkirk, mon ami," said LeBeau, upon noticing who it was. "Come on in. This is a night for visitors. The colonel is at the counter."

"Thank you," acknowledged Newkirk, as he entered.

"Newkirk, this is a surprise," declared Hogan, when Newkirk joined him. "I thought you were going to the Hofbrau."

Newkirk frowned. "It is a night of surprises," he grumbled, taking a seat beside Hogan.

Hogan immediately became concerned. "What's wrong?" he asked, wondering why Newkirk was so troubled.

"It's Juliette," Newkirk sourly replied. "I saw her at the Hofbrau."

LeBeau shrugged, not seeing why this should create such a stir. "So? My sister is free to come and go as she pleases."

Newkirk's frown deepened. "So? I asked her to go to the cinema. She told me she had other plans."

"Maybe she did and decided to stop by the Hofbrau later," Hogan suggested.

"She was not alone," Newkirk explained.

"You are not the only man in Heidelberg," declared LeBeau, as he wiped the counter with a rag. "Perhaps she just wanted to meet someone new."

"He has a point," Hogan agreed.

Newkirk's expression darkened and he shook his head in frustration. "It's not that, Gov'nor. I don't trust the man."

"You're just jealous, mon ami," stated LeBeau. "You'll see."

"Maybe I am a little jealous," Newkirk admitted. He paused only a moment, then added, "But that has nothing to do with it. There's just something familiar about this chap. I think I've seen him somewhere before."

Over time, Hogan had learned that Newkirk's instincts were seldom wrong. "Where?" he asked, growing even more concerned.

Newkirk pursed his lips in contemplation. "That's just it, colonel. I'm not sure. It's just a feeling I have. All the way here, I kept trying to figure out where and-"

"And?" Hogan prompted, when Newkirk became silent.

Newkirk glanced at LeBeau. He was afraid his little mate would not like what he was inclined to suggest.

"And?" Hogan prompted once again.

"I get the feeling we haven't met in person. I'm thinking-I don't know-I hate to say it, Gov'nor, but I'm thinking maybe it was one of the posters."

"Posters!" spat LeBeau. "Are you accusing my sister of-of-" LeBeau's temperament was getting even hotter. "Of consorting with Nazis?"

Newkirk brushed his hands across his face in despair. "I'm not for sure what it means, Louis. I just know I saw them there together and I think the man might be."

"Think!" screamed LeBeau, becoming more furious by the second. "Think! I will not have my sister's name or reputation maligned. Get out."

Newkirk's face was a mixture of hurt and confusion. "What?"

"Now, fellas," said Hogan, attempting to intervene.

LeBeau would not back down. "I want him out. He is not longer welcome."

"Louis," Newkirk pleaded in desperation, hoping his friend would reconsider.

"I said out!" shouted LeBeau, pointing towards the door.

"Louis," Newkirk started to plead once more, but the look on LeBeau's face changed his mind. "Oh, what's the use," he stated, rising to his feet.

Hogan reached out and momentarily grasped Newkirk's arm in support. "Give him some time," Hogan declared. "He'll get over it."

"I won't," insisted LeBeau, as Newkirk headed for the door. "And don't come back. Stay away from here…and stay away from my sister."

"I won't promise that," Newkirk mumbled as the door closed behind him.

A concerned Hogan watched him leave. If Newkirk's suspicions proved valid, as he feared they would, this might be only the beginning of a catastrophe.

* * *

Carter regained consciousness and glanced around the dimly lit room. A few lights overhead seemed to be the only means of illumination. Due to the absence of windows, Carter guessed he was somewhere underground. He threw off the blanket someone had evidently covered him with and sat up on the small cot.

As he sat there, Carter tried to recall what happened. He remembered being at the Hofbrau in Hammelburg with Katherina Preiss. Then, he began to feel drowsy. Obviously, he had been drugged. But why?

One name sprang to mind: Hochstetter.

The only problem was he couldn't recall seeing Hochstetter. There had been Katherina and that elderly bearded gentleman who had offered to help. He'd never recalled seeing the man before.

Suddenly, an ominous fear surfaced. Disguise. He and the others had used several during the war. What if that gentleman at the Hobrau was Hochstetter?

A few minutes later, his fears were confirmed when the door opened and Hochstetter entered. "I thought you should be awake by now," Hochstetter stated. There was a table and two chairs near the center of the room. Hochstetter pulled out one chair and continued, "Now, come over and sit down. I have questions I need answered."

"I told you last time, there are things I will not talk about," Carter said, as he stood and walked towards the offered chair.

"I'm not interested in that," Hochstetter declared. "I have no doubts that Hogan was Papa Bear and behind a majority of the sabotage that occurred around Stalag 13. That he could lead the prisoners to successfully take over the camp proves it. The questions I have concern your behavior."

Carter was puzzled. "My behavior?"

"Ja," Hochstetter answered. "Your behavior. Before, when I was going to hang Hogan, you pleaded for me to kill you instead. Why?"

"Colonel Hogan didn't deserve to die," Carter emphatically responded. "He's a great guy, for an officer, that is. When we were in camp, he did everything he could to ensure that we were treated fairly and that you guys observed the Geneva Convention."

"Bah. I'm not interested in the Geneva Convention," Hochstetter snarled.

"We know," Carter agreed. "But the colonel, I know if our roles had been reversed and you were going to kill me, he would have insisted on taking my place. Come to think of it, he did step in to keep you from killing me. That's how he ended up with that noose around his neck."

"I would not have killed you," Hochstetter quietly admitted. "Not after you saved my life."

Carter was puzzled. "But you said-"

"Empty threats," stated Hochstetter, grinning smugly as he interrupted Carter. "Which brings us to my second question. Why did you save my life?"

"Like I told you right afterwards, I don't know," Carter answered. "I didn't want to sink to the Gestapo level. Maybe…maybe its because I think there's been too much death already…the war…the camps…the mass exterminations."

Realizing what Carter was referring to with his last statement, Hochstetter muttered, "They were only Jews."

Carter began to get angry. "Only Jews!" he practically shouted. "They were people-men, women, children, even babies-who deserved to live. They did not deserve the atrocities they suffered at your hands."

"I was not at the camps," Hochstetter told him.

"No. But you served Hitler and his regime. You did nothing to stop it. And its not just the Jews. I'm sure most of your so-called interrogations could become quite unpleasant."

"I did what had to be done for the Reich," Hochstetter proclaimed defensively.

"Right, and a lot of people were hurt in the process." Carter winced and shook his head. "Of course, you guys aren't the only ones to think you were the superior race. I've met a lot of people with that attitude and they weren't Nazis."

"In the United States?" Hochstetter guessed.

"Yeah, and elsewhere. You see, my mother was from the Sioux tribe and my father's ancestors immigrated from England. There were people who thought they were better than my mother and me because of our heritage. They believed, like their ancestors, that they were more civilized and cultured than the Indians. The movies are no better. Most of them portray the Indians as savages but a lot of Indians were only fighting to keep the land that had once been theirs. And while Indians are shown attacking white settlements or wagon trains, it is seldom shown where white men attacked the Indian camps and women and children were killed."

"So, you're saying the films are one-sided?"

"To a point," Carter explained. "A lot of folks in the States have their prejudices. The Declaration of Independence states that 'all men are created equal' but too often people don't act like they believe it. And its not just the Indians. The Civil War was fought to liberate the slaves but the blacks are still treated like second-class citizens. There are a lot of places they are not welcomed."

Considering the Nazi opinion of blacks, Hochstetter scowled and asked, "And you believe this is wrong?"

"I'll say it is," replied Carter, forcefully. "But Kinch and Baker, they're the ones who've experienced that."

Hochstetter recognized the names of the two former prisoners who'd been housed in Hogan's barracks and he suspected had been part of Hogan's team. "And yet you believe the Reich to be so evil."

"You bet I do. People in the States and other parts of the world might have their prejudices but they never carried them out to the extent you guys did-causing so much death and suffering in such a short time. Of course, there were some occurrences. Because of my ancestry, I was interested in Indian history. I did some research. In the 1830s, tribes in the eastern states, like Florida and Georgia, were forced-often at gunpoint-to leave their homes. Then, they were forced to relocate to Oklahoma. The journeys were long ones and because of the weather and other conditions, many died along the way. About 100,000 were rounded up for relocation and 15,000 died along the way. The Cherokee March was aptly named, 'The Trail of Tears.' And like the Jews, they were people too. I meant what I said before. There's been too much death."

Hochstetter pushed his chair back and stood up. "I will consider what you've said," he told Carter, before he turned and left the room.

* * *

The following morning, Hochstetter entered the bunker's dining area and found Kat already there. "I fixed you some breakfast," she said.

"I not hungry," he grumbled.

Noticing Hochstetter's unkempt appearance, Kat exclaimed, "Wolfie, what's wrong?"

Hochstetter started pacing back and forth. "Couldn't sleep."

"Something bothering you?" Kat guessed.

Hochstetter took a few more paces, then stopped and looked impassively at Kat. "Could we have been so wrong? Could I have been so wrong?'

Kat was growing concerned. "About what?"

"The Jews-the war-listening to Hitler-everything?"

Kat walked over and placed a hand on Hochstetter's arm. "I don't know, Liebchen. Sometimes, I wonder. The photos I've seen of the camps…there was one, I think I recognized one of the Jews. He was so much thinner and had aged so during the few years since I'd last seen him but I'm almost certain it was him. Not long before the war, there was this Jewish patient at the hospital. He was in a great deal of pain and needed this risky surgery. I learned right away that he was different from most of my other patients."

"He was a Jew," declared Hochstetter, flatly.

Kat shook her head. "Nein. That wasn't it. He was, I mean, but he didn't behave like my other patients. Some of them could be so demanding and complain all the time but he never did. Every morning when I would walk into his room he always managed to smile through his pain and tell me 'Shalom.' That's their greeting. It means peace."

"I know," confirmed Hochstetter, barely audible.

"The day before his surgery, I was so anxious. I'd just learned that I'd been chosen to assist. It was going to be my first time."

"And?"

"And he told me I had nothing to fear. He could see that I had been well-trained. I just had to have confidence in myself and do my part. The doctor and God would take care of the rest."

"I suppose the operation was a success," Hochstetter concluded.

"Ja. Everything went well and a few days later he was released. I never saw him again until…until that photo." Kat tried to blink back the tears but one trickled down her face. She reached up and brushed it aside. Then, the tears came even faster as she continued, "And the children-babies-how could shooting or gassing them be right?"

Hochstetter put his arms around her and drew her close. "I don't know," he finally mumbled. By bringing Carter there, he had hoped to find answers to the questions that plagued him. Those answers had only brought more questions and doubts. For his sake, as well as Kat's, they too must be answered. "We have to go to Heidelberg," he decided.

Kat pulled backed slightly and glanced at him with a puzzled expression on her face. "Heidelberg?"

Hochstetter nodded. "Ja. Carter mentioned another prisoner, Baker. My sources tell me he's been seen in Heidelberg with Hogan and the others. We must find some way to get him alone and bring him back here. In the meantime, Carter will have to remain our guest."

"It could be dangerous," Kat warned.

"I'm willing to take that chance. I must have answers," Hochstetter insisted.

"I'll do whatever you need," agreed Kat, as Hochstetter drew her close once more.


	7. Chapter 7: Unexpected Guests

Newkirk sat beside Baker in their hidden communications room below the bookstore. He glanced at the final poster in his hand and then tossed it onto the stack on the table. "Nothing," he grumbled. Then, after pausing a moment, he asked, "You sure this is all of them?"

"Yeah," replied Baker with a thoughtful nod

Newkirk threw up his hands in frustration. "I was so sure I'd seen him on one of the posters. Still, I think I've seen him somewhere before and I don't trust him."

"The man you saw with Juliette?" Baker prompted.

"Right," Newkirk responded. "And it's not because I'm jealous either."

"I never said you were."

"Sorry," Newkirk quickly apologized. "It's just…it's just this whole thing is so frustrating. And now, LeBeau's angry with me."

"He'll get over it, you'll-" Baker started to reassure him, then suddenly stopped. "Wait a minute. There were three or four posters we had to toss last week."

Newkirk's irritation was reflected in his voice. "You just threw them out!"

"Didn't have much choice," Baker calmly informed him. "Carter spilled almost his whole cup of coffee on them. They were completely soaked."

"Carter," Newkirk echoed. "It's a good thing he's gone to Hammelburg. When he gets back…well, I'll think of something."

Baker turned his head slightly to conceal the grin appearing on his face. He knew Newkirk was merely venting his frustration and would do nothing to harm his clumsy friend. Taking on a more solemn expression, Baker turned back. "We will be replacing them…eventually," he promised.

"Bureaucracy?" Newkirk guessed, more annoyed than ever.

"Not entirely," Baker explained. "The coffee caused the ink to bleed so badly on two of the posters that the names were indecipherable. That means we're not sure which ones to ask for. When I can find time, I'm going to have to catalog the ones we have here and compare our list with headquarters' master list of wanted war criminals. It's just not as a big a priority as some of the other stuff we're dealing with now."

Newkirk stood and started pacing. "So, in the meantime, that unknown knave can continue with whatever his intentions are regarding Juliette? I don't like it." Suddenly, Newkirk stopped pacing. "I've got it. First chance I get, I'll stop by the garrison and have a look at their posters. They should have a complete set."

"Good idea," Baker agreed.

Newkirk glanced at his watch. "Blimey! I can't believe it's this late!" he exclaimed. "I should have opened the bookstore almost forty minutes ago. Got to go. People are going to start getting suspicious if they keep finding us closed." With that, Newkirk rushed for the stairs and Baker returned to the project he had been working on.

* * *

Nearly two weeks passed and Newkirk still hadn't been able to visit the garrison. Between their assignments and presently running the bookstore on his own, he had very little free time. Newkirk was practically counting the minutes till the end of Carter's furlough in two days. Then, he would have someone to share the store responsibilities again.

There hadn't been any customers for nearly an hour so Newkirk decided to stock some of the books they had received earlier that morning. He was on a ladder stocking some shelves in the back when the bell on the door alerted him to someone's entrance. Newkirk couldn't help but cringe as he heard an all too familiar voice. "I say, business does seem a trifle slow, what?" the voice declared. Then, in louder voice, the man called, "Anyone here?"

Before Newkirk had a chance to respond, he heard a female voice answer, "Of course, someone's here, Rodney, darling. The door was unlocked. They would have locked it if everyone was gone."

Newkirk sighed as he slowly climbed down from the ladder. Crittendon and Marya…just what they needed. Suppressing the urge to run and hide, Newkirk forced himself to walk out to join them. "I'm here," he announced. "I was just stocking some shelves in the back."

Crittendon nodded. "Right you are." Then, he glanced furtively around the bookstore. "Does, um, Hogan happen to be around?"

"He's below," Newkirk replied, stepping behind the counter. As he reached for the phone, Newkirk added, "I'll tell him you're here."

"Don't tell him it's us," Marya protested. "Just have him come up…let it be a surprise."

Newkirk agreed. Colonel Hogan would definitely be surprised and probably be even less thrilled to see the pair than he was. He dialed the extension for their communication room. When Baker answered a moment later, Newkirk asked, "The colonel still there?"

"Yes," Baker replied. "Just a moment. I'll get him."

"No, need," Newkirk quickly responded. "Just have him come up to the bookstore. Tell him we have some guests."

Baker was puzzled. "Guests?"

"Tell him it's urgent," Crittendon prompted.

"They say it's urgent," Newkirk repeated into the phone.

"Okay, I'll let him know," Baker promised.

"Thanks. Talk to you later," Newkirk acknowledged, as he hung up.

While they waited for Hogan, Newkirk walked over to the door and turned the sign to read "Closed." That way, they wouldn't be disturbed.

A short time later, Hogan entered the room. "You said we had some guests…" he began, and his voice trailed off as he noticed Crittendon standing there. "Colonel Crittendon."

"Right you are, old man," Crittendon confirmed.

While they were speaking, Marya slipped up from behind Hogan and placed her hands over his eyes. "Guess who," she urged.

"The wicked witch of the west," Hogan mumbled, unenthusiastically.

As she removed her hands from his eyes, Marya stated, "But Hogan, darling, Russia is east, not west."

"All right, witch of the east," Hogan conceded.

"Hogan!" Marya exclaimed. "That's no way to greet an old friend."

"Hate to interrupt, but we are here on business," declared Crittendon.

"Military?" Hogan guessed.

"Right."

Hogan glanced at Newkirk. "Newkirk, the door."

"Already taken care of, Gov'nor," Newkirk assured him.

"All right, Crittendon, what is it?" Hogan asked.

"Like you chaps, we're helping track down wanted war criminals. We were certain we'd spotted one in Paris and followed him here. Somehow lost his trail. Don't know if he realized we were on to him. We were careful, naturally. Anyway, we believe he's still in the area. Thought maybe you chaps could help."

"Who is it?"

Crittendon pulled a poster from his pocket and started to unfold it. "Names Fritz Werner. He was adjutant to the commandant of the POW camp, near Paris, during the war. "Of course, he was no Kommandant Klink. He treated his Allied prisoners badly with no regard for the Geneva convention. Several died from mistreatment and the rest…well, they were starving and in poor physical shape when we rescued them. These men must answer for their crimes."

"Klink was an exception," Hogan agreed.

Crittendon placed the unfolded poster on the counter in front of Hogan. Both Newkirk and Hogan glanced at the poster. Almost immediately, Newkirk pointed his finger at it and declared, "It's him, Gov'nor."

"Who?" Hogan asked, almost certain of the answer he would receive.

"The knave who's been hanging around Juliette," Newkirk replied, confirming Hogan's suspicions.

Crittendon was puzzled. "Juliette?"

"Must be the woman we spotted him with in Paris and here," Marya said. Then, she glanced at Hogan and Newkirk. "You two know her?"

Hogan nodded. "LeBeau's sister."

Marya appeared stunned. "My small one's sister? What's she doing in the company of a war criminal?"

"That's what I'd like to know," insisted Newkirk.

"LeBeau's sister, eh?" muttered Crittendon. "Could be just the spot of luck we need. We keep an eye on her and let her lead us to our prey."

"No," objected Newkirk.

Both Hogan and Crittendon stared at Newkirk. "What?" they snapped almost simultaneously.

"Begging your pardon, sirs, I don't want to see Juliette put in any danger," Newkirk told them. "And I can't see LeBeau agreeing to the plan, either."

"He's right, you know," Hogan informed Crittendon. "It is going to be difficult convincing LeBeau."

Crittendon shrugged. "Then, we won't tell him. Problem solved."

This time it was Hogan's turn to protest. "No. I won't act behind LeBeau's back. He will have to be informed."

"Good luck, sir. You'll need it," Newkirk mumbled, and Hogan silently agreed.

* * *

LeBeau paced frantically behind the counter. "I still say no," he adamantly declared. "I will not have my sister put in danger. Besides, Newkirk could be mistaken. He may not even be the man on the poster."

"And if he is?" Crittendon asked.

"I do not believe my sister to be a traitor," LeBeau spat back.

Hogan sighed as he glanced at his watch. They had been arguing with LeBeau for nearly two hours now. On the way over, he had convinced Crittendon to be patient due to the delicacy of the situation. He had hoped that they could somehow convince LeBeau without pulling rank but it was beginning to look like that might be impossible. "We never claimed she was," Hogan pointed out for what seemed like the hundredth time. "There may be some other reason she has been spotted in his company. Whatever that reason, however, following Juliette is the best chance we have of tracking him down. He needs to be arrested and pay for his crimes."

"If he is this Fritz Werner, then I agree. This Nazi scum should pay dearly for what he has done. I just don't want to compromise Juliette."

"If the guy is Werner, she's already done that," Hogan reminded him. "Look, LeBeau, due to the nature of the situation, we've tried to be very patient up till now. If necessary, we will pull rank."

"Right," Crittendon agreed.

"Then, I will ask for reassignment," LeBeau threatened.

Though he had considered that possibility, Hogan had hoped otherwise. "You'd quit the team?" he wondered.

"If I had to choose between the team and my family, oui," LeBeau answered.

Before Hogan or anyone else had a chance to respond, a soft moan drew their attention to the kitchen doorway. Marie was standing there. "Louis, I think it's time," she stated.

"For what?" LeBeau wanted to know, too worked up to realize what she meant. Suddenly, a touch of first pleasure and then panic appeared on LeBeau's face as he started to comprehend. "The baby! You're going to have the baby!"

"Oui," Marie confirmed.

"I'll bring the car around," LeBeau said, dashing for the door.

As the door closed behind her husband, a worried Marie declared, "I don't know if there's time."

Few things had unnerved Hogan like this news did. "What!" he exclaimed.

"The contractions started early this morning," Marie admitted. "I wanted to give them some time-be sure it was labor before we went rushing to the hospital. We've already had a couple false alarms. By the time I decided it was real, you had been here for a few minutes. Your conversation was loud enough that I was able to deduce its importance. I didn't want to interrupt. I thought I could wait a bit longer. Now, I think I waited too long."

"I say, it does sound like a sticky wicket, what?" mumbled Crittendon.

Seconds later, Marie placed her hand on her abdomen and emitted a cry of pain. Marya rushed over and put her arm around Marie for support. "If I thought you could make it upstairs, I'd have you lie down-check and see how much you're dilated," she explained.

"A few weeks ago, Louis converted the storeroom to a temporary bedroom so I wouldn't have to climb the stairs," Marie told her.

"Good. Then, let's go check it out," Marya suggested, as she guided Marie back into the kitchen.

Shortly after they'd gone, LeBeau returned. "Where's Marie?" he asked.

Hogan tried to soften the blow. "We may have a bit of a problem," he began. "Marie's not certain she can make it to the hospital. Marya's checking her over."

LeBeau frowned. "And that's a BIT of a problem? She can't have the baby here."

"Hogan, darling, could you come here for a moment?" they heard Marya call from the storeroom. Hogan entered the kitchen and walked over to stand in the storeroom's open doorway. "She was right," Marya confirmed. "Chances are she'd never make it to the hospital. I could use some help. Wash your hands thoroughly with soap and water and then get in here."

Hogan was aghast. "You mean we're going to deliver the baby? Here?"

Marya brushed her hand through the air. "It's either that or in the car, Hogan, Darling. I think mother and baby-and us-would be more comfortable if she had it here, don't you?"

Hogan was still a bit skeptical. "You've done this before?" he wondered.

From her position beside Marie's bed, Marya shrugged. "Once," she replied. "Years ago…on my uncle's farm."

"Once?" Hogan echoed. "And that's supposed to reassure us?"

"Everything went well. Mother and calf were fine."

"Marie is no cow," stated LeBeau, who had followed Hogan, unnoticed

"Of course not," Marya agreed. "Trust me, LeBeau, I know what I'm doing. Your family will be fine, too."

"I want to see Marie," LeBeau insisted.

"Only for a moment till you've washed up. And no touching till then," Marya conceded, and Hogan stepped aside so LeBeau could enter. As LeBeau approached the bed, Marya glanced at Hogan and ordered. "Hogan, wash up. Now."

With his back turned and headed for the sink, Hogan failed to notice when Marya whispered something to the expectant couple or the weak grins that flashed across each of their faces.


End file.
